


Safe Place to Land

by Green



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Alternate Universe - Canon, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Guilt, Kid Fic, M/M, Mates, Rescue, Spark Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-13
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2019-03-30 21:30:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13960416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Green/pseuds/Green
Summary: The Hales have been tracking a group of hunters who've targeted small packs with the help of a magic user. When they finally attack the hunter compound, they aren't expecting to find Stiles, a Spark who's practically a slave, and his young werewolf son. Derek isn't expecting the Spark to be his mate, either.





	Safe Place to Land

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FangirlAngela (FangirlUnderground)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FangirlUnderground/gifts).



> Many thanks to all the people who've read over this and tried to make it better. I'm sorry I didn't listen to your advice. :P
> 
> I hope you like this, Angela.

It's a good day, Stiles tells himself. He and Ty are left alone, just the two of them, in a not-uncomfortable room. There's food for both of them, and toys for Ty, and there's even a real bed there that they can use for a nap later. For one day, Stiles is going to pretend. He's going to pretend _so hard_.

They promised one day of normalcy for just him and his pup, and Stiles is determined to take advantage of it.

"Banana?" he asks his son with a smile. It's not a fake smile, he tells himself. He's as happy as he's allowed to be, given the circumstances. He can shove aside all the guilt and shame and dread and hopelessness if he has to. For Ty. 

Ty grins toothily, grabbing with his little fingers for the offered fruit. 

Stiles laughs. "Let me peel it first, buddy."

"I can do it!" Ty says confidently. Stiles raises his eyebrows and hands the fruit over, waiting to see what will happen. He lost a lot of the knee-jerk worry once the whole 'he's a werewolf, what's going to happen?' thing finally sank in.

Ty stares at the banana for a moment, then suddenly rips into it with fangs and claws that weren't there a moment ago. 

Stiles stares for a moment, shocked, then starts to laugh. Hard. Ty looks at him curiously, eyes glowing amber, banana half hanging out of his mouth.

"Oh, god," Stiles gasps, wishing he had a camera. He laughs so hard that there are tears in his eyes, but then something like guilt and loss tightens in his chest and he has to hold back on the real tears. He sits up from where he'd hunched over with laughter and tries to compose himself. 

Ty makes a soft sound like a whine, and Stiles knows he's picked up on Stiles's unwelcome grief. Stiles breathes in and out, pushing it away, and smiles again. 

"I love you so much, buddy," Stiles says softly, reaching for a wipe to clean the bits of banana that missed Ty's mouth.

Ty nods, eyes still glowing but entirely too solemn for a toddler. "Love you Daddy."

Stiles finishes cleaning him up and asks if he wants to play with some toys. He brings out the box that's been left for Ty, sorting through, then notices that Ty's nose is wrinkled. Stiles gets it almost immediately. "Stinky, huh? I wish you could have your own. I … I'm sorry, buddy."

Ty shrugs. No child should be able to pull off that kind of indifference to the subject of toys. But then again, this is all Ty knows. He's too young to remember what it was like before they were captured.

Stiles looks around, but there's no TV. He didn't expect one, but it would've been nice. He looks back at his son, his pup, and tries to give him that same mischievous smile his mom always gave him when she was about to let him in on a secret. 

It works and Ty perks up. "What?"

"Want to hear a story?" Stiles whispers, like it's just between the two of them. And it is.

Ty's smile goes wide and he leaps up to pull Stiles over toward the bed. For some reason, Ty associates stories with bedtime, so he always makes Stiles lie down with him before they start. It's a nice ritual, and it calms Stiles as much as it does Ty.

Stiles is only partially through a half-remembered (tweaked to be werewolf friendly) fairy tale when he realizes Ty has fallen asleep. Ty shifts position so his face is pressed against Stiles's neck, breathing him in and scenting at the same time. Stiles closes his eyes and tightens his arms around his baby, finally allowing himself to relax.

He doesn't get much rest these days. He may as well take advantage.

* * *

(He sleeps fitfully, images and emotions of the day coming back to him, _guiltguiltguilt_ and fear for his son's life invading his dreams.)

* * *

A loud noise wakes him. Ty whimpers and tries to crawl closer. Stiles rolls off the bed, Ty still wrapped tightly in his arms.

The sound comes again, and this time Stiles can place it: it's the sound of a werewolf roaring in battle. Stiles's heart pounds in his chest and Ty whimpers as he picks up on Stiles's fear. 

There's nothing Stiles can do. His magic is bound by the cuffs. Without the magic he's just human and can't fight off a wolf, not without his 'masters' giving him leave to do so. He takes a deep breath. He's not going to panic. He sits back on the bed with his son and rocks him, shushing him quietly, staring at the door in trepidation. Ty squirms in place, and Stiles tightens his hold. Under his breath, Stiles starts humming the song his mom used to sing to him, the old Nick Drake song, _Pink Moon_. When Stiles had gotten older and learned about the songwriter's life, the music had gotten sadder to him. But now, it's a connection he has to his mom, and he closes his eyes briefly and tries not to think about having to die now and leave his pup behind.

They won't kill Ty, he knows. Werewolves love children, care about pups, and Ty is young enough to assimilate into a pack with no problem. He'll be loved and might not even remember…

"Don't cry, Daddy," Ty says. Before Stiles can reassure him, there's a splitting sound and the door crashes open.

Stiles stares at the shifted beta standing in the doorway. The beta's eyes flash blue, his fangs gleaming sharp and white. Stiles tilts his head up, but before he can say a word, Ty shifts around to growl at the sudden intruder. He struggles to be let down, so Stiles slowly kneels, keeping a hold on Ty.

The strange werewolf's eyes flick to Ty and back to Stiles. He seems to be frozen in place.

Stiles knows he could be ripped to pieces soon. He's sure the werewolves raiding the hunters' hideout know exactly who and what he is, what he's done. But there's a chance, a slim chance, that he'll be allowed to live. To see his son occasionally, even if he has to be locked up the rest of the time.

"Shh, not now, Ty," Stiles murmurs to his son, not taking his eyes from the beta still standing in the door. Ty stops growling, but his little body stays tense and ready to spring. Stiles takes a steadying breath and says. "I'm Stiles. I can't hurt you." He lifts a wrist as well as he can with a werebaby clinging to him, showing off one of the rune-engraved cuffs. 

The werewolf just stares, though his fangs look less dangerous now, shortening and blunting down to human size. Good. That's good. 

Stiles nods to himself. "This is Ty, my son. I'll… I'll do anything you want, just." He swallows. He knows Ty won't be hurt, so this is at least a better situation than the one he has found himself in for the past two years. If he begs for his son's life, he knows the wolf will just be offended. Werewolves don't kill pups. 

The beta growls louder, but it's not threatening. Another werewolf, a woman, joins him in the doorway. A call, then. She's not hairy or fangy, but she looks just as dangerous as she assesses Stiles. Her eyes soften when she sees Ty, though, and she smacks the other beta in the arm. "You're scaring the pup," she says quietly. But then she starts walking into the room and Stiles holds Ty tighter and tries not to panic too hard.

She's not oblivious, so of course she can tell that Stiles is inches away from a panic attack, plus Ty is growling again. She stops in the middle of the room, looking around, her eyes resting on the broken toys and the remains of their meager food. She looks back at Stiles again, eyes narrowing at the cuffs on his wrists. She looks behind her and sighs. "Derek, go get Mom."

The other beta grunts and disappears, and then she moves a little closer and kneels, looking at Ty. "Hey, pup. It's okay. Not gonna hurt you."

Stiles can't see Ty's face but he knows he's scared. So he clears his throat and says, "This is Ty. I'm Stiles. I'm his father."

"I'm Laura," the woman says, smiling a bit at Ty. Her eyes harden when she looks at Stiles. "I know exactly who you are."

He's used to feeling the guilt and shame and fear, but it's usually fear for Ty's life he's feeling, not his own. He closes his eyes, buries his nose in Ty's curly hair. He breathes him in, hoping it won't be the last time. 

He doesn't even hear the Alpha come into the room, but he does sense the shift in the air. Ty rumbles and Laura moves away. Stiles opens his eyes and looks up.

"Stiles Stilinski?" the Alpha asks, her face a blank mask as she says his name.

He nods. Swallows hard. "Don't … do anything where Ty can see, please," he says shakily, not wanting his son to be scarred for life by the sight of his human father's body torn to pieces in front of him.

The Alpha's eyes narrow. "I'm Talia Hale." She looks at Laura, then at Derek, who has returned with her. "Bring them both," she says to her children, and then turns and exits the room.

Stiles is escorted out, still holding tightly to his son, flanked on either side by the werewolves. He doesn't know what's going on. Maybe he needs a trial first before he's executed or imprisoned for life in a werewolf dungeon. There's still a lot he doesn't know about werewolf culture. He mostly just knows how to kill or capture them. That, and the little behaviors he's picked up from Ty.

He doesn't know why he's allowed to stay with his son, but he's not going to question it. He has no idea how long it will last, so he's going to treasure every moment he can.

* * *

Stiles covers Ty's eyes as they walk past the bodies of the hunters who kept them captive. Stiles can't help but look at the dead with a vindictive smile. He stops at one familiar body. It's Cal, one of the worst ones. Stiles has regular nightmares about him, and he hopes seeing him clawed open and staring sightless at the expansive sky will help ease them. 

_Burn in hell, motherfucker_ , Stiles thinks, staring down at him. 

"Friend of yours?" Laura asks snidely.

Ty wriggles in his arms, unhappy that he can't see. "Daddy?"

Stiles takes a deep breath and shakes his head. Then he keeps walking, his worn sneaker 'accidentally' connecting with Cal's bloody face. "We had no friends here."

Derek makes a soft, questioning noise, but doesn't actually ask anything. Stiles thinks he wants to, though. Stiles hazards a glance his way. He looks less angry, more confused, his eyebrows knitted together.

"What's the smells?" Ty asks, and normally Stiles loves playing this game with him. Ty has such a good nose, but Stiles doesn't know how to explain this.

He settles on, "The bad men are gone." Then he kisses Ty's hair and keeps moving.

But Ty isn't satisfied. "Where they go?"

Stiles frowns. He feels Derek's eyes on him but he doesn't look that way. Instead, he stares straight ahead and walks as confidently as he can. "They're dead, Ty."

Ty stops wriggling. Then he whispers excitedly, "Like hunters in your stories?"

Stiles feels tears of relief fill his eyes as it hits him. The hunters are gone. They can't threaten them anymore, can't make him do things he doesn't want to do. They won't hurt him or Ty. They're finally, completely _dead_. Stiles lets out a wet laugh. "Yes, baby. Just like in the stories. They're dead and gone and can't hurt us or the wolves anymore."

Ty's little arms tighten around him. "Good." He settles.

The werewolves lead him to a clearing, where a lot of people are standing around. Most of them are bloody. One man stands out. He's bald and black and Stiles can feel his magic. 

"Let me see the cuffs," the man says.

"Alan, be careful," Talia says.

"My name is Alan Deaton. I'm a druid," the man tells Stiles.

Stiles swallows. "I'm Stiles. This is Ty." And then he holds out an arm to show the cuff.

Deaton hums, gently turning Stiles's wrist this way and that, looking at the runes. "How long have you worn these?"

"Two years, about?"

"So you weren't with them willingly?"

" _Never_ ," Stiles says vehemently.

The werewolves shift in their places. 

Deaton looks at Talia. "His magic is bound."

Stiles knows well enough not to ask if the cuffs can come off. 

"How did he work against us, then?" one of the werewolves asks suddenly. Stiles looks at his shrewd blue eyes and knows instantly this isn't someone he can hide anything from.

"I was bound as a… a slave. I could do things if I was told to, but nothing of my own."

Deaton frowns. "That's some intricate magic. Who crafted it? Do you know?"

Stiles shakes his head. "I heard them talk about someone, but never by name, and I never met her."

"A woman?" Talia asks.

"They'd say 'she' and 'her' when they talked about the magic." Stiles sighs. Ty is heavy in his arms but he doesn't want to put him down for a minute. "May I sit down?"

Derek takes his leather jacket off and puts it on the ground. "There."

Stiles thanks him, eyes wide, and gets down on the jacket. He settles Ty on his lap. He looks back up at Derek, not understanding the kindness, but the beta's eyes give nothing away.

"Where is his mother?" Talia asks, breaking the moment. 

"She couldn't raise him," Stiles says. He's careful never to say _She didn't want him_ in front of Ty. "We were friends in college."

Ty is silent, watching the other wolves. Stiles knows how unnatural it is for such a young child to be still and quiet for so long. Knows it shows what kind of life they've lived up until now.

Stiles bites at his lip. "I knew they had to be stopped, the hunters. I left clues at every place I could, but they watched me almost every minute." He sucks in a breath, lets it out slowly. "So it wasn't too often."

"You wanted to get caught," Derek murmurs.

He knows he should be speaking to the Alpha, but he's drawn to the beta. He locks eyes with Derek. "I never wanted to hurt innocent people."

"We'll see if your story checks out," Talia says. "We'll keep an eye on you in the meantime."

"Can… can I keep Ty with me? Please?"

Talia narrows her eyes but appears to be thinking.

"We won't use your pup against you," Derek says firmly. He looks at his Alpha. "Right, Mom?"

The look that passes between them is there one moment, gone the next. Stiles can't decipher it. Talia nods, though, and Stiles breathes out in relief. 

"Peter, you'll drive them back home." Talia says, and the shrewd-looking werewolf nods.

Everyone looks at Derek, for some reason. Peter sighs. "You want to ride with us?"

"If I can," Derek says.

Stiles relaxes a bit at that, though he's not sure why.

* * *

"Where are you taking us?" Stiles asks once he and Ty are settled in the backseat of a luxury car. Peter's at the wheel and Derek sits up front, riding shotgun.

"Back to the pack house," Peter says.

Derek turns around in his seat. "Beacon Hills."

Stiles freezes. "Your pack lives in my hometown?" He doesn't know them, but… the name 'Hale' is familiar, now that he thinks about it. He even went to school with one of them, he thinks. It's been so long, feels so far away. "Are you… do you know Cora Hale?"

Derek nods. "She's my younger sister. She remembers you, too."

"We weren't friends or anything, she was a little out of our league." It hurts to think back on a time when his dad was alive and the supernatural was a premise to a TV show.

"Who were your friends?" Peter asks. 

Stiles doesn't think it'll hurt to answer. "Um, it was mostly just me and my best friend. Scott McCall. We didn't have a lot of friends outside of the two of us. I mean, we had friends, just not anybody close." They'd been on the outside a lot, Stiles with his ADHD and Scott with his asthma. Then again, they'd grown apart once they graduated high school. Scott had stayed close to home and attended UC Beacon while Stiles went to Stanford. "But it's wild that you're from Beacon Hills. Small world, right?"

There's a tug on his shirt and Stiles bends so Ty can whisper in his ear. "I hafta potty."

Derek swings around and nods at him. Peter says, "I'll stop at the nearest rest area."

"Can you hold it, buddy?" Stiles asks Ty. 

The pup nods. "I think so." Which is good because Stiles definitely doesn't want him peeing the seats of Peter's fancy car.

The rest area is ten miles down the road. By the time they get there, Ty is bouncing, face screwed up into a tight expression that means 'must pee now!'

"Okay, let's go," Stiles says when Peter parks.

But Peter says, "No. Not you. Derek, take the pup."

Stiles opens his mouth to argue, but he understands where Peter's coming from. Stiles could, in theory, run straight to a guard and give him a story about being kidnapped with his son, and there wouldn't be anything Peter or Derek could do about it.

Derek looks at him. "I'll be careful with him." And somehow, Stiles trusts him.

He turns to Ty. "Derek's gonna take you to the potty, okay? Be good. Wash your hands when you're done."

Ty looks at Derek. Then back at Stiles.

"It's okay, Ty." Stiles hopes his heart doesn't blip. Ty caught on to that trick all on his own. He knows when Daddy's not being truthful.

Derek and Ty get out of the car and walk toward the buildings. Stiles watches them until they're out of sight.

"My nephew has a soft spot for children," Peter tells him.

Stiles licks his bottom lip nervously and nods. "Ty's a good kid."

"How old is he?"

"Three and a half."

Peter nods. "He's smart, I've noticed."

Stiles smiles a little. "He takes after me."

"Who's his mother?" Peter asks.

Stiles swallows hard. "Her name's Berni. She didn't want to be a mom, and her pack… She said they were, I don't know, influential. Bigwigs, I guess. She's the alpha heir and she couldn't go back to them with a pup. She wanted to take him to another pack, but I talked her into letting him stay with me."

Peter's eyes are narrow. "Who was Berni's pack?"

Stiles's heart starts beating faster. "Please don't take him from me," he whispers. "I know you have no reason to like me, or trust me, or… anything. I'd do- I've done terrible things to keep him well and, and whole, and I know a better person would've refused, but I love that boy more than anything, and-"

"Breathe," Peter says. "I'm just curious. I'm not taking your pup away."

Stiles breathes in deep. Peter nods and then Stiles lets it out again, as slow as he can. It's much easier after hearing Peter promise he isn't taking Ty. 

Peter looks at him seriously. "I don't have children, but I'd do anything for my nieces and nephew. I understand what you've done. I even respect you for it."

Stiles shakes his head. "How?"

"I think we're a lot alike, you and me."

Stiles doesn't know how to take that. He looks out the window. "Shouldn't they be back by now?"

"Look over there." Peter points and Stiles looks. He can see Ty in Derek's arms over by the vending machines. 

"Oh." Stiles lets out a relieved breath.

"Derek wouldn't let anything happen to your pup."

_That_ Stiles believes. 

Derek carries Ty all the way back, and Stiles watches the ease with which Derek holds onto the pup. He carries him like he does it all the time, like Ty was meant to be in Derek's arms. It makes something flip over in Stiles's belly. Oh, no. No. Just because the man is hot as holy hell and good with kids does not mean Stiles can afford to get a crush.

"Daddy, look!" Ty says, showing off a honeybun and a bottle of apple juice. Stiles can't help but smile. 

"Did you thank Derek?"

Ty nods his head enthusiastically. "And yours!"

Derek reaches back, candy in his hand. It's Reese's, Stiles's favorite. "Ty said you liked these."

Stiles is speechless. It's such a small act of kindness, but not one he's expecting at all. He takes the candy wordlessly. 

Ty shakes his knee and whispers, "Thank Derek!"

"Thank you, Derek," Stiles says, holding back laughter now.

Neither Peter nor Derek are so restrained. They both chuckle and Ty beams at them.

Derek turns and smiles. "There's a drink, too, but I didn't know what you like. Is Dr. Pepper okay?"

"It's fine." And before Ty can say anything again, Stiles adds, "Thank you."

"Did you get me anything?" Peter asks lightly.

And then Stiles has the privilege of watching Derek's cheeks go pink. "Oh. I can run back and get you something?"

Peter doesn't seem to be put out, though. He huffs a laugh. "No, we'd better get back on the road."

Just then, Ty shoves his honeybun in Peter's face. "Bite?"

Derek snickers. Stiles laughs and toussels his son's hair. "That's good sharing, buddy. I'm proud of you."

Peter takes a small bite of the honeybun, a smile on his face. "Thank you, Ty."

"Welcome," Ty says, completely unconcerned.

* * *

Ty falls asleep shortly after. Stiles dozes a little, though true sleep isn't happening. Too much is on his mind. He still doesn't know what's going to happen, and he can't stop himself from going over every single worst case scenario he can dream up.

Hours later, he finally sees the sign that says **Welcome to Beacon Hills**. It's been years since he's been back, and it brings a wave of nostalgia. He sits up straighter when Peter turns off the road and starts driving into the Preserve.

"You live in the woods?" Stiles asks.

"We're werewolves," is Peter's snarky reply.

Stiles doesn't know what he's expecting, but it isn't a huge house in the middle of a clearing.

He's seen packs, visited too many of them with the intent to trap and harm. Nothing like this, though. 

The packs his captors targeted were small. Remote. Stiles guesses they chose ones that wouldn't be missed right away, so they could get away clean. They wouldn't have picked this house, this pack. This place looks like a mansion, like it's been here for awhile but has been added to over the decades. It's at least a hundred years old, probably older. The Hales have been here for some time, he thinks.

They're strong. The hunters who took Stiles and Ty were cowards. They wouldn't have been able to directly attack this place. But they'd go after a single father and his baby, kill anyone who got in their way.

He knows for a fact not all the hunters were at the compound when the Hales attacked. What if they track him down? What if they try to get to him, even here?

Stiles snaps out of his haze when he hears his name called. Derek's looking at him, a frown on his face. "You okay?"

Ty's hair is a mess and Stiles tries to put it to some kind of order. "Tell me the truth," he murmurs. He looks at Derek, heart in his throat. "Are we safe here?"

There's something in Derek's eyes, something Stiles can't name. It's soft, though, and steady. It settles Stiles's nerves. "No one's going to hurt you or your pup here."

Stiles bites at his lip. "Even if I deserve it?"

Derek looks from him to Ty. Stiles knows he shouldn't talk like this in front of his kid, but he's scared. He doesn't know what he's walking into here. 

"I don't think you do," Derek says, and then he gets out of the car. Surprisingly, he opens the back door and helps Stiles out.

Ty's silent as he looks at the giant house. Stiles tightens his hold and hitches him up on his hip. Ty hasn't seen a lot outside the compound. He's bound to be curious, but he's quiet and still in Stiles's arms.

Stiles hearts aches for him and his missing childhood. But maybe, maybe now Ty has a chance at a real life. 

"Stay close to me," Derek says.

Stiles isn't about to question it. Derek has treated him well so far, as has Peter. He doesn't know how others will react. He doesn't know how many werewolves he'll have to face inside.

"Is everyone back yet?" Stiles asks.

Derek looks over the cars in the driveway and nods. Then he puts his hand at the small of Stiles's back and leads him to the front porch. Stiles isn't sure how to feel. It's almost a protective gesture. He chances a look at Derek and sees him looking back.

Stiles gives him a wobbly smile. "Once more unto the breach, right?"

Peter laughs softly, coming from behind and climbing the steps. "You're not quite entering a battlefield."

Stiles begs to differ, but he keeps that to himself. 

Derek looks like he wants to stay something, maybe something encouraging, but then the door opens and Stiles steels himself. He really is going into battle, and he needs to be at his best.

* * *

Everyone has questions, and Stiles does his best to answer. He doesn't want to say the worst things in front of his son, though. Talia seems to catch on to this and offers to send Ty upstairs with Laura.

"This is the most time I've had with him in months," Stiles says, and declines even though he's in no position to do so. He looks at Ty, who's blinking a lot and rubbing his eyes. He's even more tired than Stiles, and that's saying something. "Do you think I can lie down for just a little while with him?"

"You think you're special, that we're gonna do up the guest room for you or something?" someone standing along the wall spits.

Talia doesn't address him, but she gives a look that makes Stiles want to hide himself, and he's not even the target. The werewolf, whoever he is, shuts up. Stiles doesn't hear anymore grumbling after that.

Then Talia looks at Derek, who for some reason decided to sit at Stiles's side through the entire session. Something passes between them, and Derek stands. 

"Come with me," he says to Stiles, and starts walking.

Stiles looks around, uncomfortably aware of everyone watching him. He hurries after Derek, Ty half-asleep in his arms.

Derek leads him upstairs, to a room that's obviously occupied. It's neat, though, and the bed is made with a nice blue and gray plaid comforter. Derek points to it. "You two can sleep here."

Stiles pauses for a moment, not sure if he should refuse the kindness — he's not worth it — or thank him profusely, because Ty _is_. In the end he decides to stay silent and put Ty to bed.

Ty snuggles against a pillow and blinks at Derek before closing his eyes. And just like that, he's fast asleep.

Stiles lets out a sigh of relief. Then he turns to Derek. "I… do you mind if I get cleaned up a little first?"

Derek goes over to one of the dressers and pulls out a big t-shirt and a pair of boxers. He hands them over without hesitation. "You can take a shower."

Stiles takes the clothes. Then he gets caught up in Derek's gaze again, and he's not sure what's going on or if he likes it, but he can't seem to look away. He clears his throat. "Okay."

"You can relax," Derek tells him. "No one is going to hurt you here."

Stiles looks away then. He feels shame and guilt, but that's nothing new. "Maybe they should. I probably deserve it."

"No, you don't," Derek says. It's not the first time he's said it, and Stiles still doesn't know why.

Stiles shakes his head. His eyes are hot now, the beginnings of tears welling up. He scrubs at them viciously. "Where's the bathroom?" Derek leads him back down the hall, though Stiles isn't completely comfortable leaving Ty alone.

"He'll be fine," Derek assures him, even without Stiles saying a word. 

"I guess I'm overprotective," Stiles says. "I can't seem to help it."

"You've been through a lot. It's understandable."

He doesn't deserve Derek's understanding, but it makes him feel better. A little warm, to be honest.

Stiles hesitates at the shower. "You aren't going far, are you?"

"I'm going to run downstairs and fix you something to eat."

He's hungry, but he wasn't going to mention it. "You're pretty good at mind-reading," Stiles jokes.

Derek smiles. It's shy and small but it's there. 

Stiles doesn't know what he's doing. Is he flirting? Is he just trying to stay on the side of the one person he thinks doesn't have it out for him in this place? Can he be sure which it is?

He closes the bathroom door and puts the borrowed clothes on the counter. 

The shower is nice. He turns it up so hot it nearly scalds him. He scrubs at his skin with a soapy washcloth, washing away the grime of the hunter's compound. If only it would be as easy to wash away all the evil he's done.

But Derek doesn't think he's evil. Maybe he doesn't understand, maybe he doesn't know everything Stiles has done.

Maybe Stiles should stop thinking about Derek.

There's a roast beef sandwich waiting for Stiles when he gets out. He thanks Derek and eats half out in the hallway outside the room where Ty is sleeping, leaving the other half for Ty.

Derek frowns. "I thought you were hungry."

Stiles looks toward the door leading to Ty. "Habit. Um." He blushes. The Hales haven't given any indication that they won't feed them, or that Ty will go without. He doesn't want to offend Derek, who's been... nice.

"There's plenty of food for Ty when he wakes up," Derek says gently.

Stiles looks away and blinks back wetness from his eyes. "Okay." So he eats the other half, not looking at the werewolf until he's finished. "Done," he says, wiping his lips with his thumb.

"Go on. He'll want you to be there when he wakes up." Derek opens the door to the room quietly. He doesn't remark on how tired Stiles must look, thankfully. 

Stiles isn't sure how to tell Derek thank you. Words don't seem sufficient. He settles on a smile, though that feels inadequate as well. 

Derek smiles back, and it… it's nice. A nice smile. Stiles hasn't seen many of those lately. Usually smiles at him are vicious, bloodthirsty, or mocking. Derek's looks genuine.

It's not late or anything, the sun isn't even setting. But Stiles is sure he'll sleep until morning if he's undisturbed. Though, with a preschool-age child, that's guaranteed not to happen.

He watches Derek walk back down the hall with the empty sandwich plate. Stiles closes the door quietly, then climbs into bed with Ty. Ty immediately rolls closer, seeking out his warmth and scent. 

Stiles kisses Ty's soft hair and closes his eyes.

* * *

Ty wakes him a few hours later. It's hard to see in the dark, but Stiles can hear his breathing, knows he's holding back sobs. Ty learned early not to cry loudly. 

"We're safe, buddy," Stiles says, pulling Ty closer. "It was just a dream."

Ty clings, still crying. Stiles rocks him and hums. 

"It's okay. You can cry. Wanna tell me about it?"

Ty shakes his head quickly. Stiles hates when he doesn't want to talk, because then he can't reassure him. He has to guess what's wrong.

"Nobody's gonna hurt you here, buddy. I promise. They're werewolves, like you, and werewolves don't hurt pups." There's a soft knock on the door. Ty presses closer and Stiles says, "Yes?"

The door opens and light from the hall falls into the room. Derek stands there, a little awkwardly. "Everything okay?"

Stiles has to wonder how close Derek has been that he heard them and came so fast. "You can come in."

"Derek?" Ty asks.

"Yeah, it's me," Derek says. He comes into the room and sits on the edge of the bed. "What's going on?"

"Ty had a nightmare," Stiles explains.

"Sorry," Ty whispers.

"We all have bad dreams, pup," Derek says gently. He reaches out and runs his hand over Ty's curls. "You don't have to be sorry."

Stiles can see better now. Derek looks like he hasn't slept. Then he has a thought. "Is this your room?"

Derek nods. "But you're welcome in it."

"Where are you sleeping?" Stiles asks.

Derek shrugs. "In the hall."

Is Derek guarding them? Making sure Stiles and Ty don't skip out in the middle of the night? Or does he think Stiles will try to do something to the pack? Or.. maybe it's something else, but Stiles can't think what it could be.

Ty reaches up and snags Derek's shirt. Pulls him down so they're face to face. The proximity makes Stiles's face flush, but he doesn't say anything. 

Then Ty flashes his eyes. Derek flashes his back. 

"Wolves don't hurt pups?" Ty asks. His eyes are wide, still wet. "Promise?"

Derek looks solemn. "No, Ty. Werewolves don't hurt pups. It's the truth."

"Or Daddy?" Ty presses.

"Ty…" Stiles murmurs.

But Derek shakes his head and answers. "I won't let anyone hurt your daddy anymore. I _promise_." He turns his head a little so that he's looking at Stiles then. "You're safe."

Stiles's breath hitches and he's unable to look away.

"They don't like Daddy," Ty says quietly, breaking whatever spell held Stiles.

"You haven't been here long, and they haven't had a chance to get to know him," Derek says to Ty. "You have to be patient. You know what that means?"

Ty sighs loudly. "Waiting."

Derek smiles. "That's right. But once they get to know you and your daddy, they'll love you both. Okay?"

Stiles wants to ask what's in this for Derek. Why he cares. Why he seems to like them when he hasn't known them much longer than the rest of the pack. But the words get caught in his throat.

"Stay with us?" Ty asks, and Stiles really should put a stop to that. But then again, Derek was sleeping in the hallway, probably didn't even have a pillow, and they're sleeping in his bed.

Derek looks at Stiles. Stiles feels himself flush a little more. "The carpet has to be better than the wood in the hall." Then he grabs one of the pillows off the bed, the one he's been sleeping on. Derek takes it, his nostrils flaring. Stiles wonders if it bothers him that his pillow smells like a strange man.

But Derek smiles. "Yeah, I'll stay."

Stiles feels safer with Derek in the room. Ty must, too.

* * *

Two days later, not much has happened. Stiles spends his time in Derek's room or downstairs in the kitchen, always with Ty. Derek is never far away. Stiles figures Talia put Derek in place as a guard, of sorts. Making sure Stiles doesn't do anything to the pack or try to skip out on them.

Funny, because the last thing Stiles wants to do is hurt more innocents, and he wouldn't even know where to go if he ran away. He doesn't have anyone but Ty, not since Cal killed his father in front of him. 

That's not a memory Stiles wants to dwell on.

Derek is quiet, mostly, but when he does talk Stiles finds out he's kind and intelligent. He likes to read, which Stiles appreciates. He also likes exercise, but that's something Stiles can't relate to. He still remembers running suicides for Coach in high school and it makes him shake his head. Not a favorite memory.

Peter joins them sometimes. He asks Stiles questions, but not about what he's done while a slave to the hunters. Peter seems more interested in Stiles's life before, asks him questions about college and whether he'd like to go back, wants to know what Stiles's plans had been before hunters ruined his life.

It feels like it was all so long ago. He watches Ty build a block tower as he answers. "At first I wanted to be a cop like my dad, maybe FBI, but I liked history, too. Then once I had Ty with me, I started thinking about teaching kids."

"What about now? What are your plans for the future?" Peter asks.

That's something Stiles hasn't thought about. "Survive, I guess."

"That's not any way to live," Peter says.

"It's how I've stayed alive for the past two years. All I've had to think about is our survival."

Derek clears his throat. "You're safe now, you don't have to live like that anymore."

Stiles shakes his head. He doesn't know what the Hales want from him. He's still in survival mode, and probably will be for some time. It's not something he can just turn off. For all he knows, he's traded one prison for another. Though… he's being treated much better, and Ty isn't being threatened. It's confusing and Stiles doesn't know what to trust.

Peter nods even though Stiles hasn't said anything. "Give it time to sink in."

Derek's phone beeps and he takes it out to look at it. "Mom wants me to take you over to Deaton's workshop."

Stiles doesn't know what Talia or Deaton might want, but he nods. "Okay." He looks at Ty. He hasn't been far from him since they were rescued, but Ty seems to be having a good time playing.

"You can leave him with me for a little while. I doubt you'll be long," Peter murmurs.

Ty looks up. "Look at my castle!" He smiles wide, and Stiles's heart melts. 

"That's a wonderful castle. Ty, do you want to stay and play with Peter for a little while?" Stiles asks.

Ty looks at Peter, then back to Stiles. He nibbles on his lip, a habit he picked up from Stiles. Then he nods.

"Thank you, Peter," Stiles murmurs. He walks over and gives Ty a kiss on the crown of his head. "Be good, pup."

Ty smiles and goes back to building his castle.

* * *

"I've been reading, and I think I know how to remove the cuffs," Deaton tells him. His workshop is some ways away from the pack house. From the outside it looks like a cabin, but inside is neat and modern, almost like a science lab. There are old books on the shelves on the walls, and some bottles of weird ingredients, but that's about all that looks like Stiles thought it would. The rest is sleek and contemporary. Even the furniture. Derek is sitting in one of the chairs, a constant presence that makes Stiles feel safer.

Stiles blinks at what Deaton says, though. "Really?"

Talia sighs. "We don't want you to be our slave, Stiles. That part of your life is over."

Deaton nods. "But it will take a little time for the magic to wear off and we can safely remove the cuffs. I think about a week, maybe two." He reaches out for Stiles. "Let me see them again."

Stiles holds out both wrists.

"Hmm. Closer to two weeks, then," Deaton says, looking over the runes. "I can get started right away."

"How will you do it?" Stiles asks.

Deaton starts to explain, but it goes right over Stiles's head. 

"Whoa, do you have a complete idiot's explanation?" Stiles asks.

"You should be able to follow this easily," Deaton says with a frown. "The kinds of magics you've been able to do…"

"I never went to Hogwarts, okay?" Stiles says, frustrated. "At first I was all self-taught, and then after I was taken I was taught specific things…. but not the reason why they worked or any of the, I don't know what you'd call it, magical theory?"

Deaton looks thoughtful. Stiles bites at his lip.

"Alan, what are you thinking?" Talia asks. Stiles almost forgot she was in the room. 

"We'll discuss it later." Deaton moves over to a cabinet and takes out a small bowl. "I want to get started with this."

"What is it?" Stiles asks. He looks over at Derek, who's leaning forward intently.

"Sit down," Deaton says. Stiles chooses a seat near Derek.

"I'll leave you to it, then," Talia says. "Let me know when you want to talk more, Alan." She walks out of the workshop and Stiles looks back at the bowl.

"What's in there?"

Deaton gives an enigmatic smile. "A little of this, a little of that. I need to mark you with it."

Stiles doesn't like the sound of that. "Like… tattoo me?"

"No." Deaton something out of a drawer. "More like paint you." A small paint brush. Much better than a tattoo gun. Or a knife. Or anything else Stiles can think of.

It takes about an hour, but Deaton paints runes up and down Stiles's arms. Stiles holds still, even though he can feel the tingle of magic in every brush stroke. He looks over at Derek several times, and the werewolf keeps giving him reassuring looks and smiles. It makes Stiles feel better about everything, though he doesn't understand why that should be.

Finally, Deaton is done and he whispers something Stiles can't understand. It's not in English, and it doesn't sound like Latin, either.

"Gaelic," Deaton tells him when he asks.

Stiles watches in awe as the runes disappear, the magic sinking into Stiles's skin. And suddenly, the cuffs don't feel as heavy or oppressive. "Wow." He moves his arms up and down, reveling in the difference. 

"Better?" Derek asks.

Stiles grins at him. "Much." He gives Deaton heartfelt thanks, but the man simply nods as if it was nothing.. Maybe to him, it wasn't. But to Stiles…

He feels lighter than he has in years. He doesn't know if he can use his magic yet, but he feels like it's there. Ready.

* * *

The next day, Derek takes Stiles and Ty out into the forest. 

Ty's excited. He hasn't really been outside much in his whole life, not like this. He looks up at the trees at first, not quite knowing what to make of them. It hurts Stiles's heart.

"Can you catch me, Ty?" Derek asks suddenly, and starts running. He runs around a tree and peeks out at Ty playfully. "C'mon, pup. Let's play!"

Ty's face lights up, but he looks at Stiles for permission first. "Daddy?"

"Go on," Stiles says with an encouraging smile.

They don't go far, and Derek is sure to stay within human hearing distance. They come back again and again, and Stiles sits at the base of a big tree, smiling. The sun is shining through the leaves, his son is happy, and Stiles can tell the cuffs are weakening, can feel his own magic warming him inside.

Derek plays with Ty for a long time, running, jumping, climbing trees, and wrestling around in the dirt and leaves. Ty shrieks with happiness and it's such a foreign sound but it's so, so welcome. Stiles leans back and closes his eyes, enjoying it. Then he hears them coming closer and he grins.

When he opens his eyes, he sees Derek's somehow lost his shirt, and goddamn if that's not a good sight. Stiles feels himself blushing and he tries to look everywhere but at Derek's naked skin. Ty is on his shoulders, so Stiles focuses there.

Ty holds his hands up high, reaching for the sky, or maybe the treetops. "Daddy, look how tall!"

"Wow, look at my pup! How'd you get so big?" Stiles asks, laughing to himself. He gets up and steps closer, wanting to hug Ty, but not realizing it puts him right in front of Derek until they're face to face. 

Derek's looking at him like his smile is the best thing he's ever seen, and Stiles… Stiles gets it now. He thinks, maybe, that Derek likes him.

He feels his heart start to race. He tries to ignore it, reaching for Ty. His pup practically jumps into his arms.

"Oomph," Stiles says dramatically. "Careful there, don't forget Daddy's human." Ty giggles at that. Stiles hugs him close. "What a dirty, sweaty boy you are." Ty giggles again and Stiles looks at Derek. "You too. You both need a bath."

Derek's smile is like sunshine. Stiles wants him to turn it off because it's giving him butterflies. 

"Back to the house?" Derek asks.

"Aww," Ty complains.

"We can come back. Maybe… tomorrow?" Derek says, looking at Stiles as if for permission.

Stiles hesitates. "It's up to you," he finally says. Derek is his guard. He's the one in charge, the one who makes the decisions on where they go.

Derek grins again but the effect is muted. Stiles almost forgot he's still, for all intents and purposes, a captive. At best, he's a 'guest' with little privilege, living off the Hales' goodwill.

Ty scrambles down out of Stiles's arms and takes his hand, then reaches for Derek's. The three of them walk together, and Stiles wonders what they might look like to an outsider. Like a family, maybe?

Stiles aches at the thought. He's always had a small family. The only child of his parents, then of just his father. Then, for a short time, he had Ty and his father both, until his recklessness got his father killed. Now it's just Stiles and Ty, and he'll do anything to keep Ty safe and with him.

Derek looks over at him. Worried. He's probably smelled the negative emotions that come with those thoughts. Stiles gives him a wobbly smile that makes Derek's eyebrows knit. The werewolf opens his mouth and Stiles knows he's going to ask for some explanation, but Stiles isn't ready to give him one.

"What do you want for lunch, Ty?" Stiles asks. "You need a full bath before you touch food again, I think." It's a tease, of course Ty is resistant to germs, but it's something to say.

"Dad's making lunch for the pack," Derek says. "You're welcome to join us."

Stiles bites at his lower lip. He hasn't been around a lot of the pack since the first day, when he was questioned. There was a lot of hostility in the air that day, and Stiles doesn't know if that's changed or not. "Do you think it'll be okay?"

Derek looks confused at first, but then seems to get it. "You're _welcome_ here."

Stiles blinks rapidly, his thoughts freezing. He stops and stares at the ground, trying to make sense of it. "But, um, why?"

He looks at Ty's tilted head. Ty doesn't understand what Stiles has done, only knows they were held against their wills and hurt and now they've been rescued by people like him, werewolves, who killed the bad hunters and saved them. By his reasoning, it's a fairytale ending, a dream come true.

Stiles has to be more realistic.

Derek's eyes flick to Ty and back to Stiles. "We'll talk about it later," he says, voice so soft and gentle it almost melts Stiles's heart. "But you don't have to worry anymore."

"I… I'll go down with you, then," Stiles says. He may as well take the chance, scope out the battlefield once again.

* * *

Derek disappears to take a shower and Stiles helps Ty take a bath. There's a lot of splashing and Stiles ends up needing to change, as well. He helps himself to some more of Derek's clothing, hoping he won't mind. There's a basket of children's clothing waiting for Ty. Ty doesn't seem to mind the scent, though.

Derek comes back wearing a towel. Stiles feels his face flush and quickly looks away. "Oh, right, your clothes are in here. We'll just. Um." He can't believe how flustered he is. "We'll wait in the hall." He scoops up Ty and leaves quickly. He catches Derek's smile first, though.

Did he do this on purpose? Ugh. He's unfairly attractive.

Dinner is completely different from what Stiles expected. There's no hostility this time. There are less people so it's a little less anxiety-producing, and Stiles is smiled at a lot. Actually, there's a lot of people looking back and forth between him and Derek with smiles on their faces. Do they know Derek likes him? They must.

"Derek, how's work?" Talia asks. Then, to Stiles, "Derek's a freelance translator."

"I'm taking a break right now," Derek says. "But my next project looks interesting."

Peter smirks and looks at Stiles. "Derek's a bit of a polyglot. Of course, he doesn't know as many languages as I do-"

"Peter," Talia murmurs.

Peter holds up his hands, looking innocent. "We don't want Stiles thinking Derek's the only genius in the family."

Derek snorts. Murmurs something under his breath.

Talia gives him a fond look. 

Then someone else speaks up. Cora, Derek's sister. Stiles went to school with her. "Derek's true calling is art, though. You should see his sculptures. Have him take you out to his studio."

Stiles looks at Derek and is amused to see him blushing. Even the tips of his ears are pink. "Cora," he says plaintively.

"What kind of sculptures?" Stiles asks, curious now.

"It's nothing," Derek says.

The pack explodes in disagreement. Ty giggles.

Derek's even pinker now. "Wood, usually. It's more carving than sculpting, really…"

"I'd love to see your work sometime," Stiles says. He and Derek lock eyes and Derek smiles, sweet and happy and damn, Stiles needs to watch it. He could fall for that smile too easily.

"I wanna see," Ty exclaims. Stiles looks away from Derek and at his pup, who's grinning and excited, and reminds himself why having a crush is a bad idea.

After lunch, Talia wants to talk. Ty and Derek walk off hand in hand, Ty chattering, asking questions about carving wood and if he could do it with his claws.

Talia takes Stiles into the library. Peter follows, though he doesn't say anything yet.

Stiles is temporarily distracted by the books. The shelves reach from floor to ceiling, and the room isn't small. There are two desks and several chairs. On the table in front of a window, there's a wolf sculpture, beautifully detailed, with a triskele carved on its side like it's part of the stylized fur. 

"That's gorgeous," Stiles says in a hushed voice. He's in a library, after all.

"That's one of Derek's pieces," Talia says proudly.

Stiles walks closer to it. He wants to reach out and touch, but he doesn't want to get smudged fingerprints on the polished wood.

"Peter and I have been talking, together and with Deaton," Talia says, seizing Stiles's attention. He turns and she continues. "We know what you did while you were held by the hunters, and we know you feel like you have something to make up for."

"I do," Stiles says. The guilt weighs on him heavily.

Peter shakes his head like he disagrees, but still doesn't speak. He picks a book out from a shelf and sits down with it.

"You can help us," Talia says. "There a few things you could do. You can learn magic with Deaton, and then help us strengthen our wards. I don't think they could quite stand up to a hunter attack if it came to that."

"I'll do whatever I can," Stiles says earnestly.

"And we want to go after the remaining hunters." Talia takes a breath and lets it out. "We think you can help with that, as well."

"I'll tell you everything I know," Stiles promises.

Talia smiles. "Just like that?"

Stiles blinks. "Of course."

"Good. We'll talk about the logistics another time," Talia says. "I think Peter wanted to discuss something with you, so I'll leave you both to it." There's a twinkle in her eye as she leaves.

He gives Peter a quizzical look. "So… what's up?"

"It occurred to me that you probably don't know much about werewolves," Peter says.

"I've tried to learn, because of Ty, but… yeah, no. The hunters weren't forthcoming except to teach me ways to hurt or kill you, and that's not information I want to have." Stiles bites at his lip, feeling guilty again.

Peter rolls his eyes, then gestures dramatically at the library. "Behold, information!" 

Stiles laughs. "Really?"

Peter smiles. "You're welcome to read anything in here. Just keep the older volumes in the room, if you don't mind. Some are hard to come by."

"What kinds of things can I learn?" Stiles asks, mostly to himself as he looks around, his eyes wide. He never dreamed he'd have access to an education on werewolves. Things he wished he knew, things he doesn't know he needs to know…

"Oh, all kinds of things. Raising pups, of course. Werewolf-specific rituals, which you'll go over with Deaton, too. Everything from birth to celebrations to how we find our mates." That last bit catches Stiles's attention and he turns back to Peter. Peter puts the book he was holding down on the side table, knocking on the cover once and smiling. "Even courtship rituals."

And now Stiles is really interested. His eyes zero in on the book Peter's put down. "Really?"

Peter stands, leaving the book there. "Oh, absolutely. Now, if you'll excuse me. Take your time in here. I think Derek and Ty are taking a nap." He tilts his head, listening. "Yes, I hear them both snoring."

Stiles is determined not to spend too much time in the library, but if Ty's asleep, he can read a little, right?

Peter leaves the room, closing the door behind him quietly, and Stiles sits in the chair he vacated. He picks up the book. There's no title on the cover, but inside it gives a description. A book about werewolf mates and courtship. Stiles is engrossed in seconds.

* * *

When he gets out out of the library, his mind is spinning. He left the book, but its contents swim around in his mind.

And then he finds Derek and Ty. They're sleeping on the couch in the living room, Derek flat on his back with Ty on his chest. They look so great together, like Ty belongs there, and Derek's got one big hand on Ty's back, holding him there so he doesn't roll off. Derek looks… nurturing and protective and like everything Ty (and Stiles) could need. Stiles just stands there dumbly, watching them sleep, until Derek opens his eyes and gives him a sleepy smile.

"Hi," Derek whispers.

Stiles swallows hard. His awkward wave makes Derek smile wider. Stiles wants to run away. Well, part of him does. Another part of him wants to snuggle into Derek's arms, too.

Oh, god. Fuck his life. Fuck his heart; it's stupid for beating faster and feeling soft and fuzzy over all this. Why does Derek have to be so good with Ty? He couldn't just be ridiculously good looking, he has to be kind and playful and artistic and smart, too. And he smiles at Stiles like he's worth something, like Derek just wants to be near him.

Stiles doesn't know how to handle this. "Go back to sleep," he whispers. And then he walks out of the room. Fast.

* * *

The next week flies by. The pack is bigger than Stiles realized at first, and there are children. Other pups for Ty to play with, though he's the youngest except for an infant.

Stiles is hesitant at first. Ty isn't used to other children, doesn't know much about integrating with them. But Stiles has been careful to teach sharing and kindness, as much as he could, and Ty shows he can carry those lessons over to playing with other children.

He hangs back at first, just watching, and Stiles doesn't want to push him into a situation he's not ready for. But then one of the pups, a little girl about a year older, beckons Ty over. 

They play at a toy kitchen, though Ty's rarely seen anyone cook. The little girl, Maddie, chatters to Ty about how her daddy cooks for the pack sometimes and this is what he does, and this is how you stir, and how you pour, and maybe they need more spices. Soon there's an elaborate invisible feast cooking, and the other pups grow interested.

Some of the pups put out little plastic plates and cups on a low picnic table, and then Ty and Maddie serve up their feast. 

"The alpha's not at the table, so Ty and Maddie go first," one little boy proclaims. And then Maddie takes a bite of invisible food, smiling at Ty, and then he's 'eating' too.

And then the rest of the pups start to 'eat', with gusto, all proclaiming it's the best they've ever eaten. It reminds Stiles of a scene from the movie Hook, with the Lost Boys eating their not-so-invisible food.

Stiles feels a presence by his side, warm and welcome, before he turns and sees Derek there. Derek's watching the pups, Ty in particular, with a big smile on his face. He looks so proud, as proud as Stiles feels.

"Deaton wants to see you," Derek murmurs. 

Ty looks up and waves at them, hearing Derek's voice. He's smiling happily. "Look what me and Maddie made, Derek!"

Derek nods enthusiastically. "A wonderful feast for the pack. Good job, Ty. You too, Maddie."

Maddie grins and goes back to 'eating' and whispering to another little girl about something Stiles can't hear.

There's two older children in the giant playroom, and Stiles knows at least three adults are keeping their ears out for the pups from another room, but it doesn't feel quite right to leave Ty alone with all the children on his first time interacting with them. He's doing well so far, but that could change.

Derek bumps his shoulder lightly. "I can stay."

Stiles bites his lip. "I just... he hasn't been around other children before."

The look on Derek's face isn't hard to read. He's sad and angry all at once, and Stiles wants to hug him for it. For caring so much about his pup.

"Okay," Stiles says quietly. He trusts Derek to watch Ty, and to look out for any trouble.

He gets the feeling Derek understands exactly what Stiles is afraid of, even though Stiles can barely parse the feelings himself.

* * *

It feels odd to walk to Deaton's workshop alone. For weeks, he's tried to think of Derek as a guard, not a friend or potential… something. He's thought of his time with the Hales as another type of captivity, though they've shown more and more that it's not.

But it only hits him when he's walking alone, no one else in sight, that he really is free here. Dependent on the Hales for food and shelter, yes, but… he's not hindered by rules or the threat of punishment if he does something to break them. No one is going to hurt Ty, for sure, but no one is going to hurt him, either. 

He has to stop halfway there to lean against a tree and just breathe. Maybe… maybe the nightmare truly is over. After he's gotten his head sorted out, he continues to the workshop.

He knocks on the door and the door opens on its own, welcoming him in. Magic. He finds Deaton with a mortar and pestle, grinding some kind of herb. 

"Hey, you know they sell herb grinders without all the work, right?" he teases. "Just push a button and bam! Job done."

Deaton smiles and beckons him over. "Many things have to be done the old fashioned way," he says. "I put a little of my magic into the herbs when I grind them by hand. Makes them more potent."

Stiles nods. It makes sense. "Is this one of those very basic things I should've learned about magic already?"

"You're learning now, that's what's important."

"Derek said you wanted to see me?" Stiles asks, watching Deaton brush off his hands and put the ground herbs aside.

Deaton nods. "We're going to try to get those cuffs off today."

Stiles looks down at his wrists, at the silver cuffs that have held him hostage for two years. He's hated them for a long time, but he's also strangely used to them. He doesn't know what it will feel like to have them gone. 

He can't wait to find out. He grins. "Let's do it, then."

Deaton has Stiles sit up on his work table and gets out his jar of stinky magical ink and a paintbrush. "I think this is the last time I need to do this."

Good, Stiles thinks. It's torture to hold still while Deaton paints him in runes.

"Have you tried using your magic yet?"

"With the cuffs on?" Stiles shakes his head. "Nah. I can feel my magic again, but I don't really… I mean, the only magic I've done for years has all been destructive and-" He cuts himself off. Bites his lip. 

"Surely you learned magic that isn't destructive."

The first thing he learned to do was create little animals made of light to distract Ty during his first full moons. Ty was just an infant then, but he'd get so fussy. The animals were something Stiles could do for him, something that made him feel like he was helping.

"Not much, but… I mean. I haven't done it in awhile."

"Try it now." Deaton probably won't hear any excuses.

Stiles breathes in shakily. He's unaccountably nervous. What if he's forgotten how, or what if something accidentally blows up? What if his magic is tainted now, because of everything he's done with it?

And perhaps the last thought is his greatest fear. What if his magic has turned dark and evil like the things he's done? But Deaton surely knows what's happened, what Stiles was forced to do for the hunters. He'd say something if he thought Stiles's magic was bad, wouldn't he?

So Stiles closes his eyes and cups his hands. Tries to feel for the magic inside him. It comes eagerly. It surprises him how eager it feels, like his magic has its own mind and it's happy now.

He opens his eyes and sees a ball of light in his hands, a light blue color like the animals he used to make. He concentrates, and the ball forms itself into a small rabbit with a twitching nose and floppy ears. Its tail wiggles and Stiles grins. Then he lets it go to hop around in the air around them.

It's not evil. There's nothing bad about it. It's a harmless little light bunny. 

Stiles looks at Deaton. "I did it!"

Deaton is watching the rabbit, surprise on his face. "That's rather advanced illusion magic."

"I used to make them for Ty when he was a baby. He always liked them."

"Them?" Deaton asks curiously.

Stiles cups his hands and makes another animal, this time a raven. He lets it go and it soars up toward the ceiling of the workshop before it comes back down to land on the table. It hops playfully over to Deaton, quirking its head.

But Stiles doesn't stop there. Now that he knows he can do it, he makes more animals. A fox. A wolf. A bear cub. They follow each other around, playful and free, and Stiles is smiling so hard his cheeks hurt. 

"I'd forgotten how cute they were."

But Deaton is wide-eyed. "Who taught you?"

Stiles shrugs. "Books. Myself."

"How are you controlling so many at once?" is Deaton's next question.

"Oh, I'm not really controlling them. They're just made of light, energy, you know? But they do what they want."

Deaton looks baffled. "How?"

"Magic is based on belief, right? So I just believe they want to play, so they do. It's not that hard."

Deaton frowns, watching the raven and wolf play. "What you're talking about, and what you've done, it can only be…" He trails off and looks at Stiles. "I underestimated your magic. I think I've underestimated you, as well. I thought, maybe, you'd had some druid or witch blood in your family line, but it's much more than that. I think you might be a Spark, Stiles."

"What does that mean?" Stiles asks.

"A lot of things. But one of them is that you're much more powerful than we thought."

Stiles shrinks back. He calls his animals back to his hands and reabsorbs their magic. "I'm not dangerous. I mean, I guess I am, but I won't hurt you, please… I don't want to hurt anyone."

"I'm not afraid of you, Stiles. You can calm down."

"Are you going to tell the pack?" Stiles asks. "What if they… I mean." He doesn't know what he means, but he's scared. When hunters found out he could do magic, they imprisoned him and his baby, and made him their slave. Made him do horrible things to innocent people, just because they weren't human. What if the pack wants him to do things for them, beyond finding the hunters and making wards? "I don't want to be a weapon anymore," he whispers.

"Stiles," Deaton says sharply. It breaks through some of Stiles's panic, gets his attention. "This is nothing to be afraid of. You're powerful. So am I. We're both dangerous, but do you see the pack treating me as their weapon? I'm their emissary. I'm a respected part of the pack, of their family. Have they shown you any indication that they want to do to you what those hunters made you do?"

Stiles swallows his nerves and shakes his head.

Deaton nods. "I won't tell them right away if you don't want me to. But it's nothing to be ashamed of. Sparks are rare, and it's a wonderful thing that you're a Spark."

"Are you still going to take the cuffs off?" Stiles asks. What if he's too powerful without them?

"Of course, but you have to promise to train with me. I think having your magic bound the way it's been, it might be a little unpredictable once it's free. You'll need help controlling it."

"Unpredictable how?" Stiles asks. "Like… accidents?"

"Nothing bad. You'll probably just leak a little," Deaton says with a smile. "Your magic feels friendly to me, and there are no enemies here, so you'll probably just have to deal with unintended things. Maybe your illusions will show up without being called, for instance."

"Nothing dangerous?" Stiles asks.

Deaton frowns a little. "I suppose if you felt threatened, then maybe something defensive might pop up."

"That sounds like a recipe for disaster. I get anxious a lot. I feel threatened when there's nothing really going on. I don't know why, I'm just... jumpy."

"It's the trauma you've been through," Deaton says calmly. "It's sure to leave a mark."

"I'm not crazy."

Deaton raises his eyebrows. "Did I call you crazy? I'm simply pointing out that you've been through things that are going to change how you view the world. It's normal to have those reactions after trauma, especially when it's gone on for so long. I know a psychologist you can talk to, if you'd like."

"Will it help me control my magic?" Stiles asks. "And… do they know about werewolves and hunters and magic and stuff?"

"Yes and yes. She's my sister."

Stiles takes a deep breath and lets it out. He doesn't really want to talk to a shrink, but he also doesn't want his magic going haywire anytime he gets anxious. "I'll give it a shot."

Deaton looks pleased. "Good. Now let's get the cuffs off."

"I'm a little worried about it, now."

"If you'd like, I can give you a dampener similar to the cuffs, but that you can take off and put on at will. Would you like that?"

Something he could put on if he thought his magic was starting to get out of control would be perfect. "Please."

"I happen to have something that will work. I'll give it to you after this." And then he motions Stiles to hold out his arms. It's time to start painting.

* * *

Stiles hasn't read up on full moon rituals yet, so he doesn't know what to expect. Talia tells him the older wolves will hunt tonight, but that Ty and the children will stay in the clearing with the teens and Deaton after a short run.

Ty has been keyed up all day. It will be his first full moon out of chains. He's looking forward to being free, to playing in the forest with the other pups. Stiles used to hate that the hunters chained Ty, but he didn't realize how much his son was missing by not being in a pack.

"Daddy, daddy!" Ty says, jumping into Stiles's arms.

Stiles picks Ty up high and tickles his side, grinning. "Yeah, buddy?"

Ty screeches with laughter. "Full moon!" He wiggles and wriggles around until he decides to tickle back. He does it too hard, though, so it doesn't really tickle. Stiles plays along and laughs, though. 

"Oh, no, the tickle monster's got me!"

Ty laughs louder, and it's such a welcome sound.

"You're gonna have fun tonight," Stiles tells him, walking toward the clearing. Others are walking there too, though most of the children are running. He feels a presence at his side and knows immediately that it's Derek. 

Derek doesn't say anything, just walks with Stiles and Ty until they get to the clearing where everyone else is waiting. Just him being close makes Stiles's insides feel a little funny.

"Derek!" Ty says, spotting him with a toothy smile. 

"Hi, pup," Derek says, his own smile bright like the sun. Ty leans out of Stiles's arms and reaches for him, and Derek looks at Stiles first before taking him. "You're getting so big, did you grow?"

"You saw me this morning!" Ty exclaims.

"I did, but I think you've grown since then," Derek says and then he throws him into the air and catches him easily. Ty shrieks with happiness.

It would be way too easy to fall in love with Derek Hale.

"So I hear you're hunting tonight," Stiles says, trying to get his mind on something else. "Is that something you do every full moon?"

Derek smiles shyly. Is his face pinker than usual? "Just sometimes." He sounds awkward. Like he wants to say more but isn't sure how.

"What are you hunting?" Stiles asks. "Is it meat for the table?" He's noticed they have venison sometimes. He likes it. He thinks Derek's knows that, too.

"Deer," Derek says. He hands Ty back over after kissing his head. "I've got to go, buddy. Have fun tonight; I'll see you later."

"Bring back a big one!" Stiles says, smiling at Derek as he moves ahead.

Derek nearly trips over his own feet. So much for perfect werewolf agility. He turns around and looks serious. "Okay. I will."

* * *

The pups play for hours in and around the clearing, their eyes glowing in the darkness. They're much more rambunctious tonight, and Stiles sees more than a few flashes of fangs and pointed ears. He's worried Ty will get hurt, being the smallest, and keeps a close eye on him. 

"It's okay," Cora says, coming up to stand beside him, pulling her wild hair up into a ponytail.

Stiles startles. "Oh, you're back!" He looks to see who else might be back from the hunt. He sees Talia, and Peter, and Laura...

Cora grins. "Derek's on his way."

"Oh, I wasn't-"

"Sure," Cora says with a laugh and a knowing look.

Stiles's face heats. "No, really, I just-"

He's cut off by the sight of Derek, bare-chested and bloody, carrying a buck over his shoulders like it weighs nothing. He saunters into the clearing, headed straight toward Stiles. His teeth are still sharp when he smiles, though he's not in beta shift. He still looks… wild, though. Stiles has no idea why he likes it so much. 

And then Derek hefts the buck off his shoulders so it lands right at Stiles's feet. Everyone is suddenly very quiet, and Stiles feels eyes on him. Waiting.

Stiles looks from the dead deer to Derek, and quickly back again. Well, he did say to bring back a big one. And he's read about this. He knows what this means. Derek's eyes are glowing, waiting, and Stiles…

Stiles doesn't know if he's worth all this attention. Doesn't think Derek is thinking this through. It could be the night, he could be moon-drunk and regret it in the morning. Stiles thinks he'll understand if that's the case.

But for now he's got to say something or he'll shame Derek's hunt, and that's not right, either.

"Thank you," Stiles finally says. And just like that, he's accepted Derek's courtship. Part of him is thrilled. Another part is scared out of his mind. And still another part is telling him this isn't real, it can't be real, because people like Stiles don't end up with people like Derek.

Derek is pleased, though. He smiles brightly and reaches out to Stiles. Stiles doesn't pull away, lets Derek take his hand and pull him closer. His heart is pounding. He thinks Derek is going to kiss him, but he's not ready, not even close to ready for that. 

But Derek just leans in and presses his cheek to Stiles's. His stubble is soft against Stiles's skin, and Derek's so gentle, so fucking patient, not moving, letting Stiles take it at his own pace.

Scent marking. Stiles rubs his cheek against Derek's slowly, then takes a step back. Derek's smile doesn't dim. 

"You won't regret this," Derek promises.

_But you might_ , Stiles thinks.

* * *

Derek still sleeps on the floor in their room. His room. Stiles has gotten to the point where he can't fall asleep unless he hears Derek's quiet breaths. He almost wishes he was a werewolf, so he could hear his heartbeat, too.

Ty is worn out, and so is Derek. But Stiles didn't exert himself much on the night of the full moon, so he's awake at the normal hour, ready to get up. He does so quietly, but he still manages to wake Derek.

"Go back to sleep," Stiles whispers.

Derek smiles at him, sleepy and a little goofy, and closes his eyes again.

Stiles wonders what it would be like to wake up next to him some morning. Would Derek be a cuddler? Werewolves are tactile. Would he mind that Ty still sleeps with Stiles, that Ty would probably wedge himself in between them, clinging to both like an curly-headed octopus?

He stops himself when he realizes he's having domestic fantasies about Derek.

He pulls on some sweats over his boxers — well, over Derek's. He's still wearing Derek's clothes, but they're comfortable and make him feel good, so he doesn't think it's a problem. Derek hasn't gotten annoyed about it, and Stiles doesn't have any money to buy new things.

He takes time to look at Derek again, who's snuggled down on the floor with a pillow and blanket. He makes the floor look comfy. Stiles wonders what he'd do if he got down on the floor with him and cuddled up to him.

Then he rolls his eyes and leaves the room, closing the door behind him quietly.

He heads for the library. He wants to reread the book about werewolf courtships. In case Derek wasn't actually moon-drunk and in his right mind. In case Stiles needs to know about these things. He wants to see if the book has something about when werewolves chose to court humans.

But the library isn't empty. Talia and Peter are there.

"Oh, sorry. I can come back later," Stiles says.

Talia smiles at him warmly. "Come in, Stiles. You can probably help us here."

Peter and Talia are standing over the largest desk, looking down at something. As Stiles gets closer, he sees that it's a map.

"Anything you need," he says honestly. The Hales have done so much for him, helping them is the least he can do to repay that.

"We've been tracking the hunters who had you, the remnants of them, anyway. We think they might be hiding here," Peter says, pointing to a spot on the map.

It takes Stiles a moment to see what the map is showing. "It's so close," he murmurs.

"Only about a hundred miles south of us," Peter says grimly.

"It… I think that's where I was when they first took me," Stiles says. The memories are bad. He'd been scared out of his mind. His father had just been killed in front of him, and his murderers had him and his son. They separated them right away. Put Stiles in the cuffs to suppress his magic and Ty — a baby at the time — in restraints.

Stiles is shaky. He doesn't like to remember that time. He doesn't like to remember any of it, but the beginning was so bad. He was terrified, and so was Ty. Ty cried and howled for his father, and Stiles wasn't able to get to him. 

"I'm sorry for making you talk about this," Talia says. They can smell his distress, he's sure.

"Can you tell us anything about this compound?" Peter asks. "I'm going to check it out, but any information you can give ahead of time could make it so much easier. You might even keep me alive."

Stiles swallows hard. He has to sit down if he's going to do this. Once he's settled in a chair, he begins to talk. It's a strain, and he can hear the waver in his voice, but he knows it's important. So he tells Peter and Talia everything he knows, everything he remembers. 

Then he slumps down in the chair, his face in his hands. "That's all I know."

"I know that was hard," Talia says. She lays a hand on his shoulder. 

Stiles nods.

"Thank you, Stiles," Peter says. "Now I know what to expect."

"They may have a magic user with them, so be careful," Stiles says worriedly.

"I'll keep that in mind."

Talia and Peter leave Stiles alone with his thoughts. His mood has plummeted. He's been reminded of his dad's murder, and of Ty's frantic howls, and he just wants to cry. Has he had a safe place to grieve since he was captured? Has he had the time to deal with all that's happened?

Suddenly, he feels the need to be with his pup. He gets up and goes upstairs. He's surprised to see they're awake, Ty and Derek together. They're curled up on the bed with a book.

Stiles stands in the doorway. Ty looks up at him, smiles, but then looks back at the book Derek is reading from. 

"You won't lag behind, because you'll have the speed," Derek reads. "You'll pass the whole gang and you'll soon take the lead. Wherever you fly, you'll be the best of the best."

Stiles gives in and comes into the room. Ty scoots closer to Derek, making room on the other side. Stiles looks down at the book and smiles.

"Wherever you go, you will top all the rest." Derek drops a kiss on top of Ty's head, and Stiles feels his heart melt. "Except when you don't, because sometimes you won't."

"Daddy, do you know this book?" Ty asks.

Stiles nods. "Your Granddad gave it to me when I graduated high school."

"It's Dr. Seuss!" Ty says happily. Ty likes Dr. Seuss, though he's never had his own book. Stiles used to recite _Green Eggs and Ham_ to Ty from memory. Stiles knows a few children's books from memory, but only a few. Ty seemed to like his made-up fairytales the best, though. But still.

Ty… has never had his own book. Stiles just came from a library full of books and didn't even think of what Ty's been missing. It makes Stiles feel like a bad father for not thinking of it. They've been at the Hale house for weeks and Stiles never once thought to borrow a book from the children to read to Ty.

"What's wrong?" Derek asks.

"Ty doesn't have any books," Stiles says quietly. He doesn't know if that even will make sense to Derek.

But Derek smiles. "We'll get him some."

"I don't have any money." Stiles is completely dependent on the Hales for everything. How can he live his life like this? And now Derek wants to court him and… and what? Support him and Ty indefinitely?

"Don't worry, Daddy," Ty says, giving him a hug. Stiles feels horrible. He shouldn't rely on his three year old for reassurance, either.

"You and Ty are pack," Derek says. "Pack takes care of each other."

Stiles frowns. "I'm not-"

But Derek puts his hand up. His eyebrows are knit together and he looks at Ty and back at Stiles. "We'll talk about it later."

What can he possibly have to say that will make this right?

* * *

After breakfast, after Ty runs off to play with the other pups in the playroom, Derek asks Stiles to go for a walk with him.

It's easy to say yes. Stiles likes spending time with Derek, though they don't spend much time alone. Or at least, they haven't. Ty is usually around, too.

"You accepted my courtship last night," Derek says as they walk into the forest. It's nice this time of day, breezy, not too cold and not too hot. Just right, and the trees are beautiful.

Stiles nods. "But I understand if you want to take it back. It was the full moon and you maybe got carried away. I get it." He's already letting himself down easy without any input from Derek.

"Stiles," Derek says, stopping and turning his way. "I meant it." He reaches out and takes Stiles's hand. "Did you?"

"I just… I just don't know what you see in me? It's not like I have- Just. I look at you and you're so… you. And I'm me, and I've done terrible things and everyone here is just nice to me? And you're wonderful, you're the best, and Ty adores you, but I don't know why you would want to court me."

Derek looks up at the trees and huffs. He sounds frustrated, but Stiles just _doesn't understand_. "If you were a wolf, you'd know."

That brings Stiles up short. "Excuse me?"

Derek breathes out through his nose, and the way his nostrils flare isn't cute or anything. Stiles is focused on what he's saying, totally and completely. Derek says, "If you were a wolf, I wouldn't have to explain this, you'd just already know. We'd already be…" He huffs again, but Stiles is getting angry now. 

Not angry, no, just… a little pissed off. "Well I'm not a wolf," Stiles says, letting his annoyance known. Derek blinks.

"I know, I don't-"

"So I _don't_ know and you _do_ have to explain. Maybe use small words, because I'm just a feeble little human who doesn't know anything." Was that too much snark? Possibly.

Derek winces. "I didn't mean it like that."

"Just explain it," Stiles says, pulling away and crossing his arms. 

Derek lets out a soft whine. "I knew, from the moment I first saw you, that you were my mate."

"Wait, what?" Stiles says.

"You mean everything to me. You're perfect for me, you're… you complete me. And I didn't want to tell you right away because humans don't usually understand what mates mean to us."

Stiles takes a step back without thinking. His voice is weak when he speaks again. "What?"

"We're meant to be together, Stiles. I love-"

"Stop!" Stiles is panicking. He holds up both hands. "Don't."

He was prepared for a crush. He's been considering the courtship. He agreed to it, but he thought… he thought dating and getting to know each other and maybe some mind blowing sex. Eventually, maybe even more. But this… he's not even remotely ready for something of this magnitude.

Derek doesn't say anything, just waits patiently. He's worried, though. It's written all over his face. If he believes everything he just said, and the thing he almost said, then of course he's worried. He doesn't want Stiles to reject him.

But Stiles can't- He just- There's no way. So he does the only thing he can think of: he turns on his heel and runs away.

* * *

"I didn't think we had a lesson today," Deaton says when he finds Stiles hiding in his workshop. Stiles has been grinding herbs for the last hour, everything he could find that might need grinding, he's ground it. Now he's out of herbs but still full of conflicting emotions.

Maybe Deaton can help.

"Derek told me I'm his mate," Stiles says. "Did you know about that?"

Deaton nods. "The entire pack knows, minus some of the children."

"Great," Stiles says, grinding the pestle against some dried hellebore. It's becoming a powder now. Surely powdered hellebore has some use?

Deaton takes the mortar and pestle away and replaces them with a squishy little round object.

"What's this?" Stiles asks. The thing is bright pink.

"Stress ball." Deaton takes out another and squeezes it. "Magicked to be extra durable. You're not the only one who comes here when circumstances become overwhelming. I'm Talia's emissary, after all."

Stiles can't imagine calm, collected Talia stressing out. But he guesses she must. He's glad she has someone to talk to when things become overwhelming. Maybe she doesn't feel like she can bring those things to the rest of the pack, being the Alpha.

But that's her business. He's got enough on his mind at the moment, he doesn't need to worry about the Hale Alpha as well.

"So I was the last one to know," Stiles says, getting back to the subject of mates. And how he is one to Derek. "Is that why everyone has been so good to me?"

"It probably has a lot to do with it," Deaton says. "That, and your obvious love for Ty went a long way toward convincing some of the more stubborn packmates that you aren't a threat."

"So I'm just suddenly forgiven for everything I've done?" Stiles asks incredulously.

"I think the only person who needs to forgive you is you," Deaton says.

"You know the things I've done," Stiles says. "The… the havoc and pain I brought to packs. The death." He shudders as memories threaten to overtake him.

"When are you going to speak Marin?" Deaton says.

"She said she could see me this weekend," Stiles says. He's reluctant to talk to a psychologist, but Deaton is sure it will help him with his magic. And other things, though Stiles doesn't want to think about that part.

"You should talk to her about how you feel about your past," Deaton says. 

Stiles sighs. "I'm sure I will."

"Good. Maybe she'll make you see the truth."

"Which is?" Stiles asks.

Deaton turns around and puts the extra stress ball away. "That you did everything you could to keep your pup alive and healthy. That you were being a good father."

"Even if that's true, that doesn't mean I have nothing to atone for."

"And you feel like you're not worthy of Derek?"

Is that what has Stiles so upset about this? So scared? "It's also a little… intense. The way Derek talked about me being his mate, it sounded…" He trails off, not knowing how to finish the sentence.

"The bond between mates is profound," Deaton says. "I'm surprised you don't feel it yet."

"Bond?" Stiles asks.

"The longer you're together, the more in tune with each other you'll become. I thought you'd already started to feel something."

"What, like… I'll get psychic for him?" Stiles asks.

Deaton smiles. "There is a mental component to the bond. Mostly you'll be able to feel if he's happy, or upset."

"I have a hard enough time with my own feelings, why would I want to feel his, too?" Stiles asks.

"It's not anything so intense," Deaton says. 

"I don't know, it sounds pretty intense to me," Stiles says. "And Derek, he was about to tell me he loved me. How is that- How can he? I haven't even been here that long, he doesn't know me, he doesn't know everything about me, and-"

"Stiles, calm down," Deaton says. "Your magic is overreacting."

Stiles realizes then that everything is shaking. "I can't stop it!" The shelves rumble and books fall off onto the floor. Beakers crash and glass breaks. Stiles panics. "What do I do?"

"Your pendant," Deaton says, catching a jar of wolfsbane extract before it falls to the floor.

Stiles pats himself down quickly, looking for the magic-dampening necklace Deaton gave him. "I don't have it!"

"Oh, dear."

Stiles's panic intensifies, as does the shaking. Books begin to levitate. Deaton hurries over to a cabinet. When he turns around, he's holding a syringe.

"I'm really not good with needles!" Stiles says, backing away. But then the broken glass begins to levitate and whip around. Some cuts Stiles's arms and his eyes widen. "Hurry with that needle!"

Deaton's syringe, or whatever is in it, works quickly. Stiles falls asleep within seconds.

* * *

Stiles comes awake and immediately looks around. He's back at the house, on the sofa downstairs. Deaton's nearby, and Stiles gets the feeling Derek is too, though he doesn't see him.

He feels the weight of his pendant on his chest and breathes, putting his hand over it. His magic is dampered, though he can still feel it. The necklace isn't like the cuffs. It doesn't make him a slave or cut him off from his magic entirely when he's not using it.

"Thank you," Stiles murmurs. "I'm sorry I lost control."

"You should carry the pendant with you all the time," Deaton says.

Stiles nods. "I wasn't thinking."

"I don't think you'll forget again, after this."

Stiles shakes his head. "Nope. That was scary." He looks at his arms. There are bandaids here and there where the glass cut him. "Nothing serious? Are you okay?"

"Nothing touched me," Deaton says. "I don't think it would have, to be honest."

"Why not?"

"I wasn't a threat to you."

Stiles opens his mouth to say he's not a threat either, but then what were they talking about, after all? Stiles is dangerous, and his past proves it. Hell, forget his past. This magic 'mishap' proves it.

"Stop that," Deaton says.

"What?"

"You're beating yourself up again," Deaton says. "You aren't a threat, either."

"But I'm dangerous," Stiles murmurs. "You can't trust me. _I_ can't trust me."

Deaton sighs. "This is getting nowhere. Keep your appointment with my sister." He gets up. "I have a workshop to put in order."

"Oh, um," Stiles says guiltily. "I should help clean up."

"Don't worry about it," Deaton says. 

"But-"

"See you later, Stiles."

Stiles sits alone in the living room after that, thinking. No one else comes in. Stiles keeps putting his hand over the pendant to reassure himself it's still there.

After ten minutes of this, he sighs. He knows he needs to talk to Derek. He just doesn't know if he's ready.

* * *

They walk out behind the house, following a trail Derek knows but Stiles has never been down.

"You've never asked me why I have blue eyes," Derek says.

Stiles squints at Derek. "I thought your eyes were green."

Derek huffs. "My wolf eyes. They're blue. Do you know what that means?"

"The hunters said it means…" Stiles trails off and bites his lip. "It means the werewolf is a killer, but that was them. I know better than to believe anything they say."

"They were right, though," Derek says. He doesn't look at Stiles but down at the ground. "I killed an innocent person, and my eyes turned from gold to blue."

And Stiles may not know Derek that well yet, but he knows enough, okay? Derek's gentle and good. He's not a killer. So there has to be more to the story. "Do you want to tell me what happened?"

Derek nods. He sits on a downed tree and Stiles doesn't think, just sits beside him. He even leans in a little, offering comfort. Derek looks surprised. 

"Go on," Stiles prompts.

And Derek starts to talk. He tells Stiles about his teenage love. Stiles smiles a little when he hears Paige's description, because it seems like Derek has a type. He doesn't mention that though, just lets Derek talk.

Then comes the painful part. Paige was Bitten by a rogue Alpha, but she didn't turn. Derek didn't know what to do, but she begged him to end her pain.

"She wasn't my mate, but I loved her," Derek whispers. "I loved her and I murdered her."

Stiles wraps his arms around Derek's shoulders and lets him lean his head down, lets him bury it in Stiles's neck. Derek breathes in deeply, and Stiles isn't quite sure this is what he needs, but he says, "It wasn't murder. It was mercy."

Derek brings his arms around Stiles and holds on, not saying anything more for long minutes. Then, "I'm sorry." His voice is so quiet, Stiles wouldn't be able to hear him if he wasn't so close. "I only meant to tell you I'm not perfect. I didn't mean to…" He sighs.

Stiles thinks about fifteen year old Derek, losing his girlfriend, saddled with guilt and the stigma of blue eyes. How awful it must have been for him, Stiles thinks, and feels tears prick his eyes.

"Why are you crying?" Derek asks, pulling away so he can look into Stiles's eyes. He looks concerned, caring. Too good for Stiles.

"That wasn't your fault," Stiles tells him. "What happened to Paige wasn't your fault."

Derek smiles sadly. Nods. "I know that now. But Stiles… what happened to those packs, that wasn't your fault either."

Stiles sucks in a breath. To argue, maybe. He wants to, but Derek's face is so earnest. So good.

"It was the hunters, not you," Derek says. Stiles tries to duck his head, look away, but Derek won't let him. He takes Stiles's face in both his hands. "It wasn't your fault."

Stiles kisses him to shut him up. He doesn't expect Derek to kiss back like he's been starving for it. Like he's been waiting for this since they met.

He has, Stiles realizes. Stiles wraps his arms around Derek's neck and whimpers. It seems Derek's been holding back for so long and now he's finally allowed to touch, to kiss, and he's taking full advantage. Stiles feels it all the way down to his toes, which curl in his shoes.

When Derek breaks away, Stiles is left breathless. Derek searches his face, and Stiles doesn't know what he finds there, but he smiles. Maybe at the stunned expression Stiles is sure he's wearing. Maybe because Stiles made the first move and kissed Derek. Maybe-

"Will you just sit here with me for awhile?" Derek asks.

And that's not too much to ask, Stiles doesn't think. If that's all Derek wants, Stiles is happy to give it to him. He settles down against Derek's side and turns his head, just a little, so that he can catch a hint of Derek's scent.

The sun went down sometime between their walk and the kiss, but there's a nearly-full moon rising. Stiles sighs and rests his head on Derek's shoulder, enjoying the sounds of the forest at night. There's nothing to be afraid of. 

They have to go back soon. Ty will be getting ready to sleep and Stiles wants to be there. But for now, it's nice to just enjoy the relative silence, this _thing_ they have thrumming between them.

* * *

Peter's back by morning. Stiles is invited into the dining room after a hamburger lunch outside. The rest of the pack is there too, ready to hear the plan. Deaton's present too, so it must be all hands on deck.

Stiles's heart nearly stops when Derek's part comes up. He takes Derek's hand without thinking. Squeezes hard, hoping with all his might that Derek will be safe.

They are attacking almost immediately, Talia says, but when Stiles speaks up, asks what he can do, Deaton gives him a look. 

"You don't have your magic under control yet," he murmurs. He says it quietly but of course everyone in the room can hear him. 

"I can shoot a gun," Stiles says. 

"Do you have a gun?" Talia asks. He doesn't. But Talia has another job for him. "Stay here with Cora and watch the pups."

Cora groans but Stiles knows how important it is. It's not just babysitting. They're being entrusted with the pack's youngest members, and it's humbling that he's worthy of that. Stiles would rather be in the action, but he does realize taking care of the pups is an honor.

Stiles tips his head. "Yes, Alpha."

Talia gives a pleased smile, and he realizes it's the first time he's called her that. Derek squeezes his hand.

Peter puts his hands on the table, commanding attention as Talia's second. "We'll leave an hour before dusk. We'll attack when they go to bed."

The group disperses once they go over the plan once more and everyone is clear on their parts. Derek stays behind with Stiles.

"Be careful," Stiles whispers without looking at him.

"I have something to come home to," Derek says softly. "I won't risk that."

Stiles looks up and sees Derek's soft eyes staring back. Stiles nods and licks his lips. "Okay."

Derek leans in and kisses Stiles's forehead. "Stay safe."

"Stay safe," Stiles echoes, closing his eyes and leaning into Derek's strong body.

When the pack leaves, Stiles says it again, whispers it like a prayer on the wind.

* * *

Cora and Stiles sit back and watch the pups play. They'll give them baths and get them into jammies soon enough, but for now Cora says to let them tire themselves out.

Ty picks up on Stiles's mood, though. He makes his way over to Stiles and climbs up on his lap. Stiles wraps arms around him and holds him tight.

"Where is everybody?" Ty asks.

Stiles rocks Ty a little and says, "Remember the story where the wolves go after the bad hunters?" 

It's Ty's favorite, so of course he nods enthusiastically. 

"Well, Derek and the pack have gone after the bad hunters." Stiles looks over at Cora, and she looks back at him, curious.

"But… the hunters are dead," Ty says. "You said so!" He wriggles, trying to get away. He sounds scared and mad and Stiles is heartbroken for him.

"I did, I promise, the hunters at the compound, the ones who had us… every hunter that was there that day is gone," Stiles says. "I promise, buddy."

"Then why…?" Ty asks.

"The pack went after the rest of them, the hunters that weren't there that day," Stiles explains.

Ty blinks up at him. There's a hardness on his face that Stiles isn't sure should be there. Ty nods. "Good."

Stiles lets out a breath and hugs Ty close. "We're safe. I promise we're safe."

"I know," Ty says quietly. "Alpha Talia and Derek and Peter and Cora and everybody keeps us safe."

Stiles knows he's left out of that list because he's never been able to protect Ty before. But soon, soon he'll be able to.

"Hey, want to see some magic?" Stiles asks.

Ty lights up. "Yeah!"

Stiles slips his necklace off and into his pocket. Then he forms some wolves from light and sets them free. They run around, playing, wrestling each other. The other pups stop what they're doing to watch the show, too.

Stiles ends up telling everyone a story with his illusions to illustrate it. The pups cheer for the wolves and the crafty ravens when they outsmart the hunters. It's one of the tamer stories he made up for Ty — the hunters go back from where they came from instead of being torn apart. 

After story time, the pups groan but tromp into the house for bathtime. Cora and Stiles each take a bathroom and oversee baths. Then they manage to get the pups dry and in pajamas, then in their separate beds. 

Ty waits patiently for Stiles to come to him after he puts the others to bed. Stiles doesn't lie down with him, though. He sits instead, and asks tentatively about Derek.

"You like Derek, right?" Stiles asks.

"I love Derek, Daddy. You know."

Stiles smiles. "I do know. But… what if Daddy and Derek dated? Or…" He's not sure how to explain courtship to a three year old.

"You're mates," Ty says, surprising Stiles.

"How do you even know what that is?" Stiles asks. He hears Cora down the hall, laughing at him.

Ty shrugs. "Everybody knows. And that means Derek's gonna be my other Daddy."

"Only if you want him to be," Stiles says weakly. He can't believe this conversation.

"I do!" Ty tells him emphatically. "Can I call him Papa? Or Daddy Derek?"

Stiles's heart beats funny. "Maybe ask Derek that, buddy."

Ty yawns. "Can I ask tomorrow?"

"Sure," Stiles says, and hopes his anxiety over tonight doesn't show too much. He brushes curls off Ty's forehead and leans down to kiss his nose.

Ty giggles sleepily. "Night, Daddy."

"Goodnight, buddy. I love you."

"Love you too."

Stiles closes the door behind himself as he leaves and bumps into Cora in the hall. "Were you eavesdropping?"

"Nah," Cora says, and Stiles doesn't believe it. He gives her a look that says as much and she playfully punches him in the shoulder, a little harder than necessary, in Stiles's book.

They walk downstairs together. 

"Hungry?" Cora asks, headed to the kitchen. "There's some leftover hotdogs."

"No thanks," Stiles says. He gets a soda from the fridge. "I'm still full from dinner."

Cora waits until he takes a sip. "So you think Derek's gonna go for 'Papa' or 'Daddy Derek'?" she asks, totally nonchalant.

It's spit the soda or choke, so Stiles spits. Dr. Pepper sprays everywhere. Cora laughs.

"God, you're so evil," Stiles says once he wipes his mouth and grabs a towel to clean with.

Cora smiles and smiles. "Was it really that big of a surprise when Ty asked you?"

"It was a surprise that he even knew what mates are, when I'm still a little hazy on it myself," Stiles says. 

Cora frowns. "I heard mom telling Peter to give you books to read. Did he not do that?"

"No, he did," Stiles says. "I just haven't read that much. Not yet, anyway." He's either been busy, or avoiding. 

"Why don't you go do that while we wait, then?" Cora suggests. "It's not like you have anything else to do."

She's right. The only thing he'd be doing is worrying anyway.

"Fine. I'll be in the library, then."

* * *

Apparently, mates are an even bigger deal than Derek let on. There's a ceremony, too, an important ritual mates participate in with the pack emissary. Stiles reads about it avidly, soaking up every word like he's a sponge. A human-mate-to-a-werewolf sponge who's already almost (or truly?) in love with the — get this — other half of his soul.

It's a lot to parse, but Stiles is determined to understand. He reads about Derek's side of the bond, how he must have felt the first time he saw Stiles. It must've been such a shock, Stiles thinks. Derek was there to raid and a compound full of murderers and found his mate amongst them. One of the enemies, he must have thought at first.

Stiles still remembers the first time he saw Derek. The stunned look on his face. At the time Stiles thought it was because of Ty, but now he knows it was because he'd found his mate, and in an unlikely place. Stiles wonders for just a moment if Derek had wished for someone else, someone less complicated, but then he thinks _other half of his soul_ and discards the idea. Derek was kind almost immediately, both to Stiles and to Ty. 

Stiles doesn't think Derek was just kind because he found his mate, either. Derek is… soft. Good. He's kind to others, as well. Stiles has seen it, and it's one of the things that makes Derek so attractive.

_Attractive_ is such a weak word, too. Derek is beautiful, both on the outside and as a person. Stiles wonders if he's understanding with everyone or just Stiles and Ty. He wonders how much is Derek and how much is the bond they share. But Derek's kindness comes easily, Stiles thinks. There's nothing stilted or forced about it. That proves something. Derek's just… _good_. And he accepts Stiles despite the past.

He's safety and goodness and everything Stiles and Ty could possibly need.

Maybe the mate situation is a blessing. Stiles would have fallen for Derek without it. Did, before he knew. He wonders if Derek would have fallen in love with him without mates being a factor.

The more he reads about mates, the more he thinks _yes_. 

He reads late into the night. Right as he's starting to nod off in the comfy library chair, he's interrupted by the bang of the door being thrown open.

"They're back," Cora says. "Derek's hurt."

"Where is he?" Stiles asks, frantic to get to him.

"Deaton's workshop," Cora says grimly. "He's been shot."

_Wolfsbane_ , Stiles thinks. He's out the door, running in the dark, before he knows what he's doing. He only knows he has to get to his mate.

There's a crowd but they part as soon as they see Stiles. Then Stiles is looking down at Derek's prone form, his pale face, and he feels his whole future catch fire.

The bookcase rattles but Stiles pays it no mind. He looks at Deaton. "What can I do?"

"I don't know the strain of wolfsbane," Deaton says.

Stiles tries to remember everything he's learned about werewolves and poisoning. "Didn't they get a bullet?"

Deaton looks grim. "I've tried it. It didn't work. They must have grabbed the wrong kind."

Derek reaches out to Stiles. The wound is in his side. On any other day, Stiles would faint at the sight of so much blood, but today he's holding himself together. He has to.

"Do something!" Stiles says. He can see the blue tinge to Derek's lips right before Derek throws up over the side of the table. It's all black. He's dying. A beaker falls off a table. Glass shards litter the floor.

"I'm trying," Deaton says. "Put your necklace on."

But Stiles remembers what Deaton has told him about Sparks. He knows he can do something, he just has to believe. He shakes his head. "I need all my juice."

Deaton gives him a sharp look. "Try it, then. Hurry, he doesn't have much time."

"I love you," Derek says. His voice is weak.

"Shut up," Stiles says tersely. "You're not dying." Then he puts his hands over Derek's wound and thinks _heal_.

The whole room is shaking, but Stiles works on his concentration. He can feel his magic. He can feel Derek. And in Derek, there's a taint working its way through his body, on its way to his heart, and Stiles isn't going to let that happen.

Derek's heart belongs to _Stiles_.

_Heal_ , Stiles thinks. _Purify. Live._ "Live, dammit," he orders through clenched teeth.

And finally, amazingly, his magic listens. Maybe he wouldn't have been able to do it with someone else, but Derek is his mate. He can feel his fear, his sadness. His pain. He doesn't know how but he doesn't question it, using the bond to move his magic along, to pinpoint where it's needed.

Derek's body seizes up and he throws up again, over the side, black with blue this time, and Stiles knows it's a purge this time. He helps it along with more magic, pouring it into Derek's body to heal him. 

Stiles is sweating, panting, and still he gives Derek more. He's not going to die and leave Stiles alone, not now. Not for a long, long time.

"That's enough," Deaton says, but Stiles has to be sure. He lets his magic rush like a river into his mate, clearing him out, making him healthy. Maybe healthier than he was before.

He's leaving nothing to chance.

"Stiles, stop!" Deaton says, and Stiles turns to ask him what he's yelling about, can't he see Derek needs him? But then everything starts to close in and go dark, and Stiles feels his knees go floppy, his legs suddenly too weak to hold him up.

Deaton catches him, and Stiles hopes what he did was enough. He's exhausted. He wants to close his eyes but he doesn't want to leave Derek, not when he needs him.

"You did it. You saved him," Deaton says. "Sit down before you pass out."

"What?" Stiles asks weakly. He lets Deaton guide him down.

"What's wrong with him?" he hears Derek ask. His mate's voice is strong. 

"Magical exhaustion." Deaton looks into Stiles's eyes, lifts his lids higher. Stiles would protest but all he can manage is a grumble.

He looks over at Derek, sees him wiping his mouth. Their eyes meet and Stiles can feel his mate's worry. _I'm fine_ he tries to say, but it comes out a garble.

"He needs electrolytes." Deaton leaves his side for a moment but comes back almost immediately with something sweet and cold to drink. Stiles gulps it down greedily.

He hopes Ty is still sleeping. He'd hate for his pup to see him like this.

Derek's smeared with blood but his wound has healed. His color is coming back. He gets down off the table and kneels in front of Stiles. "You saved me."

Stiles lifts his hand. It's still tacky with Derek's blood, but that doesn't matter. He reaches out and runs his fingertips over Derek's healed skin. 

"It's okay now," Derek assures him. Then he leans in and kisses Stiles's hair. "Thank you."

"You're m' mate," Stiles says. He hates the way his words are slurring, but this is important. "Can't let ya die."

Derek sucks in a breath. Then he smiles like the sun.

* * *

Stiles sleeps all the next day. He wakes up several times, and each time Derek is there by his side. The last time Stiles wakes, he makes grabby hands at his mate.

"Cuddle me," he says, and Derek is happy to obey.

He wakes up hungry. Starving. But he's so comfortable in Derek's arms he doesn't want to move. His stomach doesn't care, though, and growls loudly. 

Derek shifts and nuzzles Stiles's cheek. "Want me to bring you some food?"

Stiles hums. "Please."

Derek drops a kiss on his forehead and gets up. "I'll be right back."

Ty comes in while he's gone. "Daddy, where'd Papa go?"

Well, he supposes Derek had a preference after all. It's still a little shock to hear Ty call Derek 'Papa', but part of Stiles is just warm at the sound.

"He went to get me some food," Stiles says, and opens his arms. "C'mere, pup."

Ty bounds onto the bed and snuggles in close. "You slept and slept." 

"I used a lot of magic, I guess," Stiles says as everything comes rushing back. He'd been so scared. 

"You saved Papa's life," Ty says, maybe too serious for a three year old.

"We can't lose him when we've just found him, can we?" Stiles says.

Ty seems to agree. He clings a little closer than usual, and when Derek comes in with a tray, he grins broadly. "Papa!"

Derek looks at Stiles, eyes full of hope. Is he waiting on Stiles's approval?

"Let Papa sit down," Stiles tells Ty, who's tugging and trying to snuggle Derek now, too. "What's on the menu?"

"Venison steak and salad with those croutons Dad makes," Derek answers, smiling.

"Oh, all my favorites," Stiles says. He starts eating and realizes the steak is freshly grilled. These aren't warmed over leftovers. "Did Joe make these for me?"

"He said something about spoiling you silly," Derek says with a laugh.

Stiles is baffled. "What? Why?"

"For saving me," Derek clarifies. 

Stiles blushes and pops another bite in his mouth before he can say something stupid.

* * *

Stiles starts therapy with Deaton's sister, Marin. At first it's to get his emotions under control, so his magic doesn't spill out and do ridiculous things when he's upset, but then he starts to enjoy it. Sort of. Therapy is hard work. Sometimes he wants to quit, because at first it brings up bad things he'd rather stay buried.

But he can tell it's making a difference. He even gets Ty to talk to Marin, just to see if he needs her. It turns out, he does. Kids are resilient but Ty's been through too much not to leave a mark. 

Derek is supportive. "I needed to see someone after Paige, but I never went. Now I wish I had."

Stiles points out that it's never too late. Derek smiles and says he'll think about it.

In a few months, Stiles is feeling a lot more steady. Enough that he gets a job in town. He gets a job in the town's library, working with kids. It helps that he has an excellent reference from Talia Hale.

After working in the library for a few weeks, Stiles knows what he wants to do with his life. He's going to be a teacher.

Derek grins and tells him he'll be the best teacher those kids will ever have. He's a little biased, but it still makes Stiles feel good.

Six months after Stiles and Ty are rescued, he's settled and satisfied. Better than that, he's _happy_. He, Derek, and Ty have their own cottage now, close to the main house but far enough away for privacy. Only one thing could make Stiles happier.

He rolls over in Derek's arms. Ty's asleep in the next room. Derek can tell he has something to say, and waits patiently.

"I want to get werewolf married," Stiles blurts. "I want the whole thing, the ritual and the celebration and some of the human stuff too, like… you know, signing the papers. I want to be your husband." 

Derek's answer is to kiss him like he's never been kissed before. "Yeah," he says, grin lighting his whole face. "Let's do it."

**Author's Note:**

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> 
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